Roommates
by NCCJFAN
Summary: FINISHED! His building goes co-op and he's forced to move...Jordan offers to let Woody move in with her, but anticipates only a platonic relationship...but is that really what either of them want...or need?
1. Roomies

**Okay, this started as a plot-bunny in my head about three weeks ago, and I just haven't had time to write it. I kind of hoped if I ignored it, it might go away, as I have been tremendously busy, but it didn't. As plot-bunnies go, it just got bigger and threatened to multiply.**

**So here it is. **

**Now I need to disclaim you. I don't own Crossing Jordan. Tim Kring and Tailwind Productions do. I just like to borrow them and cause total chaos.**

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They were now roommates.

Of all the things he had thought they would become, roommates were _not_ one of them.

At least not the kind of roommates he imagined. Lovers, yes.

Platonic, "you-sleep-in-your-bedroom-I'll-sleep-in-mine" roommates, no.

He was still struggling with the concept, yet here he was in this predicament. He had found out his building was going co-op and he couldn't afford to buy into it. So he was looking for another place to stay. Entering the Pogue one night, Jordan had noticed he was particularly pensive. She had asked what was wrong.

And in a moment of weakness, or a moment after one too many beers, he told her that he was, in fact, three weeks short of being homeless. Jordan had offered to let him stay with her…as her roommate …because she had moved back into Max's house, and Max had long since left Boston and wasn't sure when or if he would return. "I've got the space. You can have your own bedroom and I'll have mine. It will be perfectly platonic and totally acceptable."

Perfectly platonic was not what he had in mind with Jordan Cavanaugh. So he hedged. "Let me do some looking around…and if I can't find anything…"

"Sure," she said. "My offer stands."

So he had looked….but was having a hard time finding something that he liked, that was close to work, and that was in his price range. And with the three week deadline clicking off day-by-day….and the necessity that he actually had to take the time to pack up and _move_, he had finally swallowed both his doubts and his pride and took her up on her offer.

He had boxed up his belongings, put what he didn't need in storage, and found himself on her doorstep one Saturday afternoon, suitcases and houseplant in tow. Her new "perfectly platonic roommate."

God, that sounded like the new, gay, male-companion to Barbie.

Now he sat at his desk with his head in his hands, wondering just how long this platonic thing could last…if it could last.

And if it did last, what the hell was wrong with him? He would be living with what he considered to be one of the hottest women in Boston and he would have to keep his hands off of her. _Remember all the grief she has caused you,_ said his inner voice. _That should be incentive enough **NOT** to get involved with Jordan Cavanaugh._

That had worked. For at least the first 24-hours. Then he came downstairs on Monday morning to find her eating breakfast in her tank top and girl boxers….without a robe. He reached in the freezer to get some ice for his water, when he had really wanted to drop the cubes down his pants.

This was not going to be easy. And she was seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was making it difficult for him by being dressed…or rather mostly undressed….like she appeared. Evidently because she seemed perfectly capable and quite content to have just a "friendly" relationship, she imagined he was perfectly capable and quite content to do the same thing.

Just let her keep believing that and maybe, just maybe it would come true.

Or elephants would fly out his butt.

And if he was a betting man, he'd put his money on the elephants.

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"Is it true what I've heard?" asked Detective Roz Framus.

"Is what true?" asked Woody, settling himself in for the usual Monday morning chaos that followed a weekend.

"That you and Jordan Cavanaugh are living together?"

_Bad news travels fast_, he thought. He also realized that no matter what kind of platonic spin he tried to put on the situation, no one…._no one_ in the department was going to believe it. So he had a choice to make. He could play along with the detectives and let their minds take them to places he only wished he could go in reality, or turn blue denying the innuendos.

Well, the blue would at least match his eyes. Cautiously he answered Framus. "Yes, but not the way you're thinking. I'm only renting a room from her until I can find a new place to stay. See, my old building went co-op…."

Framus held up a hand to cut him off. "Look. You don't have to explain yourself to me. If believing that helps mesh your Midwestern values with the fact that you're living with a woman who's not your wife…." She grinned at him.

Nervously, Woody ran his fingers through his hair. "It's true. I have my own room and Jordan has her own room."

"Oh, I can believe that. But just which room do both of you sleep in at night?"

"Look. Roz. It's really not like that. Jordan's just doing me a favor. The truth is, we can barely stand to be in the same room with each other. It's only due to the fact that Jordan works so damn many hours that this is going to work. She's never home…"

"Must be….frustrating," she said, still holding that "yeah, right" grin on her face.

"Roz…" he began, but was cut off by his cell phone ringing. "Hoyt," he said into the receiver. "Yeah. Sure. We'll be right there." Turning back to Framus, he said, "There's a body down at the wharf. We need to get on it now." He spun on his heel and quickly walked out of the office, leaving her to follow in his wake.

Mondays were always hard, but this one looked to be a real bitch.


	2. Possibilities and Responsibiities

**Chapter Two**

"Heard you had a new roommate," Lily commented, breezing into Jordan's office to drop off some files.

"Gee, can't a girl keep anything secret around here?" Jordan replied, trying her best not to look flustered and irritated by the comment. _Bad news travels fast_, she thought. She realized when she had impulsively told Woody he could move in with her that "other people" might get the wrong idea. But she had hoped she would have a few days to prepare a story, or at least get the truth in some semblance of order, so as to quash any romantic ideas her co-workers might hatch about her and the young detective.

No such luck. Lily was grinning at her like the Cheshire cat and her eyes were sparkling with mischief. "Look, Lils, nothing is going on. Woody's old building went co-op and he couldn't afford the buy-in right now. He needed a place to stay for a little while until he could find a new apartment. I have plenty of room at my dad's and I do owe the man a few favors…"

"Favors?" Lily asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Not like that. Get your mind out of the gutter. Woody's simply my roommate until he can find a new place."

"Wish I had a roommate that was that gorgeous and tall. Lucky girl."

"Lily, my relationship with Woody is not like that. We're _friends._ _Good friends_. And we want to keep it that way."

"Yeah, right."

"Lily," Jordan said, with a warning edge in her voice.

"Know what I think, Jordan?" Lily replied, totally ignoring the other woman's agitation. Lily had worked with Jordan long enough to know when she really needed to back off. Now wasn't the time.

"What Lily?"

"I think you both need to stop fighting the attraction between the two of you. You have a great opportunity right now to explore the possibilities without the prying eyes of the rest of the morgue staff or the Boston PD looking on. It could be nice, you know….Sunday morning, reading the paper together in bed…."

"Lily. That is so not going to happen."

"You never know. And if you don't at least give it a shot, you may kick yourself for not trying later on."

"Really?"

"Really. Remember the deep funk you fell into when he started seeing Devan?" And with that Lily knew to stop. She set the files down on Jordan's desk and left, shutting the door behind her.

Jordan picked up the files and flipped through them. One case was closed and the body could be signed out to go to the funeral home. Another family was coming in this afternoon to make a positive identification. Another's trace work needed to be sent to the CDC….what was the guy's name again? Jordan was trying to fill out the appropriate paperwork, but her mind wasn't on it. Finally throwing down her pen in frustration, she sat back in her chair. _Explore the possibilities….._ Lily said. _Or you may kick yourself for not trying later on._

Would she? Would she regret it? Truth was, she wasn't sure exactly how Woody felt about her now. Or even if she was ready to begin a relationship with anyone. She closed her eyes. The other truth was that she had never really contemplated a relationship with anyone other than Woody.

But he was her friend. A good friend. And she had kept the relationship strictly friendship for both of their own good. At first, shebelieved she was protecting him from her. She had thought him a country bumpkin from Wisconsin for so long. A farm boy. _Her_ farm boy, but a naïve young man, just the same. But he had changed. The years in Boston had given him an edge of sophistication and the hours at the gym had given him a body she could no longer ignore. Or wanted to. He was definitely a man now.

However, the years that had been so good to him had been as equally hard on her. Physically, she hadn't changed much, unless you wanted to count the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. She worked long hours at the morgue and filled in at the Pogue, often making a 65-70 hour work week for the young ME. But there had been more going on for her emotionally. Her dad, her sole surviving family member, left Boston and had been gone over a year now with no word. The birthday present she had mailed him had been returned, stamped with an invalid address sticker.

The Pogue was draining her dry financially. She had given up her apartment to save money…and moved back into her father's home. She had laid off employees, filling in the gaps they left herself, all in an effort to keep the bar afloat for her father, so that when he returned home, he would have something to keep him in Boston. God knows, she wasn't enough anymore.

She wasn't sure she was enough for anyone. Which brought her back to Woody. She had long ago stopped protecting him from her. She didn't have enough left in her at the end of the day to hurt anyone…she just had enough energy to make it home and stumble up the stairs and hit the bed. Then get up in the morning and do it all over again. No, now she was protecting herself. She couldn't imagine anyone wanting a relationship with her on any level right now. A relationship with a man required a lot of give and take. And she had precious little left to give. And most men wanted to take.

She never imagined that Woody would want to be on the giving end of things.

* * *

She wasn't home.

Not that it was any of his business. What Jordan did when she got off of work was strictly up to her. He had no claim on her and she didn't on him, either. They were just roommates.

But as the clock downstairs chimed one in the morning and she still hadn't come home, Woody couldn't help but worry. The Pogue closed at midnight during the week. When did she normally return home? He tossed and turned in his bed, wondering. And worrying just a little. In the past, when he had gone to the bar, he would occasionally help her close, not getting away until around 12:30 himself.

However, he knew that there were fewer people around to help her shut down the bar now.

Was there anybody left to help her at all? _Please, dear God, don't tell me she's there by herself, at this late of an hour, closing the bar, in that part of Boston," _he thought as he listened to the clock then chime two.

Then he heard her key in the lock and the front door softly open and close. The quiet patter on the stairs told him she was tiptoeing to try to keep from waking him up. Two. Two in the morning. The woman was coming in at 2 a.m. by herself. How long had this been going on?

And why didn't he know about it?

He rolled over and tried to go to sleep. He knew being her roommate would mean dealing platonically with the many temptations that would come his way. He knew he would have to learn to cope with a myriad of emotions.

He didn't know feeling so damned responsible for her was one of them.


	3. Yes, Woody, There Really is an Easter Bu...

**Chapter Three**

It was bound to happen. Them getting too close.

And one Sunday afternoon it did.

Sundays were Jordan's only real day off, if you could call it that. On Saturdays she was at the Pogue from mid-morning until early dawn on Sunday….checking stock, ordering food and liquor, getting the books caught up, then working from the time the bar opened until it closed.

Sundays was her day to get caught up on her sleep, the housework, laundry, and shopping. Woody had tried to help. He cleaned his part of the house the first of the week.

He cleaned her part of the house Saturday when she was working. He was afraid to touch her laundry…the piles of delicates were a bit intimidating. And he had no clue what to buy at the grocery store.

However, he was there to help her unload the bags of food and put the stuff away. Until she had tried to set one knee on the counter and reach up to place something on a high shelf and lost her balance, falling right into Woody's arms.

Talk about opportunity knocking…or in this case, falling…

He had steadied her and slowly let both feet touch the floor…but unable to take his eyes off her face, or her wide eyes. "You need to be….you need to be more careful, Jordan," he had said, his breath shortened at the feel of her body next to his.

"I know…I'm sorry," she replied, her voice just as breathless as his….but making no move to disengage herself from his arms.

"That's okay….no prob…" his voice was failing him, "lem." Instincts took over. His arms tightened around her and his lips tentatively sought hers.

Sweet Jesus, it was better this time than any of those kisses in the desert. He backed her into the counter, still holding her and kissing her. And feeling her respond…not retreating from him or his caresses…instead, nearly encouraging him to continue….after all Lily had said take advantage of the opportunity. She was.

But Woody was confused. She had indicated she only wanted a platonic roommate.

And these kisses were far from platonic. Especially when she made no objection to his tongue gently skating against hers. He finally broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers as he waited for his breathing to return to normal. Hereluctantly took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry, Jordan."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah. I told you I could behave….that this roommate thing would be perfectly friendly and nothing else. I've broken my promise and I'm sorry. If you want me to leave, I understand."

"Leave?" Her lips were still tingling far too much for her to form many words. Damn, he never let on he could kiss _that_ good. What else had she been missing?

"Find some other place to stay, if you don't feel you can trust me."

"Trust you?" Oh God, she sounded like a parrot, repeating everything that was said to her. She really just wanted him to shut up and kiss her again.

"I understand, Jo. Just, can I wait until tomorrow to leave? Give me a day or two to find some other place to stay?"

She took a deep breath and placed her hand on his chest. "I don't want you to leave, Woody. I really don't. What happened here….just now….I guess it was a result of curiosity…" she looked up into his blue eyes. Hell, she'd tell him there really _was_ an Easter Bunny it if would get him to stay. "I mean, I know I've been wondering what kissing you would be like again since we got back from LA."

He solemnly looked in her eyes. "You're right. I guess that goes for me, too. And the way things happened…."

"Yeah. I just kind of fell in your arms…."

"And it really was all an accident.'

"True. And no one can take the blame for an accident."

"Right…so my curiosity is satisfied…how about yours?"

_One last quick kiss and he's happy? _She thought. _I must a lousy kisser. God, he knows how to hurt a girl._ "Oh, yeah, sure," is what she really said out loud. "So we don't have to worry anymore….you can stay here until you find another apartment."

"Alright…if you're sure you don't mind?"

"No. I don't mind at all." _Just don't go_, was what her mind said, still reeling from the assault on her lips.

* * *

So he stayed. For three more weeks. He did regularly flip through the rental ads in the paper, looking for an apartment. He even went and saw a few of them.

But there was always something wrong with them. Not close enough to work. Rent just five dollars too high. Landlord was a real pain in the ass. Jordan commiserated with him. "Don't move until you're sure you can live with your choice," she had told him over her shoulder, one Saturday as she was getting ready to go into work at the Pogue. "I'm fine with you staying here for as long as you need to." _If it possibly means you still care about me, _she thought, her eyes lingering on his lips just a moment too long. _Or if it means I could rekindle the flame with you…just please… don't leave me._

"Thanks, Jordan. I really appreciate it. What time do you think you'll be home?" he asked, trying to act casual. Inside, his heart was turning somersaults. She wasn't pushing him away.

"Probably about two. It's Saturday and I don't close until one."

"Be careful. Want me to stop by and make sure you're okay?"

"Nah…you have to work tonight. If something happens you'll know about it."

"Jordan…" he warned.

"No worries. In all the years that the Pogue has been on West Centennial, nothing has happened."

"Are you closing up by yourself?"

"I won't know until it's time to leave tonight."

Woody grunted. "Call me if you get scared, okay?"

"Will do. But I'm fine."

And she was. Until about fifteen minutes before she was supposed to leave the bar.


	4. A Robbery

**Chapter Four**

Woody absently mindedly listened to the police radio as he processed the paperwork on a murder investigation he was trying his best to finish up before he left to go back to Jordan's house. With any luck and little criminal activity in the next half hour, he should actually be able to leave on time.

Until he heard the call on the radio for a unit to go to 1513 West Centennial Street.

The Pogue….

His heart dropped to his shoes. Paperwork forgotten, he pushed away from the desk and ran for the door.

"Hey, wait…Woody….we're just about to bury this sucker," said Framus. "Where are you going?"

"The Pogue…the call that just came in said it was robbed….and Jordan was closing…" he yelled back over his shoulder as he disappeared down the stairs, not waiting for the elevator.

* * *

Flashing his badge he ran through the door of the bar, noting the paramedics on the inside. They weren't normally called during a simple robbery….but he soon saw why they were there…Jordan was crumpled in a corner, holding her head. Holstering his gun, he knelt beside her. "Jo…Jordan?" There was no response. Wordless he stared up at the paramedic trying to treat her.

"She was robbed. The guy had her at gun point. She handed over the money in the till, but he wanted more…she told him she didn't have anything else and he pistol-whipped her several times…took the cash and ran out the back door. She put up one hell of a fight."

"Was there anyone else here…" Woody's voice trailed off. He should have stopped by to keep an eye on things while she closed.

"Nope. She was by herself…"

"Is she going to be alright?"

"Physically? Yeah. She's going to be sore and have a monster headache for a few days, but she'll be fine. Emotionally….well, that's another story. I know Jordan…and Max. I've come in here for a few beers now and again. I know she's hanging on to the bar for her father….I also know this is a bad neighborhood for her to be alone in so late at night," the EMT's eyes softened. "Are you her boyfriend?"

Woody shook his head. "No…just a good friend."

"If you're her friend, I'd watch out for her for the next few days. She's going to need someone. And help me get her to the hospital for a head x-ray. She doesn't want to go." The man shut his medical case up, patted Jordan on the back and turned to leave.

"Jordan," Woody began again, gently taking her in his arms. "Jordan…look at me, sweetheart."

"Woody?" Her voice was faint, like she was only just hanging onto consciousness. She lifted her head and looked up….then reached for him to pull him closer. "H-h-h-he had a g-g-g-g-g-un. I was so….scared. I didn't know what to do…He was so big…" her voice trailed off as she tightened her hold on him. "I was here by myself….I was too afraid to do anything."

"Sh…it's okay…it's all going to be fine, Jordan." He tucked her as closely to him as he could as he tried to stand and take her with him.

"He got the money….all tonight's cash receipts…."

"It doesn't matter, Jordan. What matters is that you're okay."

"My head hurts…."

"I know. I need to get you to the hospital for an x-ray. Okay?"

"My car…I don't think I can't drive."

"We'll get it home. You come with me." He gently pulled her through the tangle of police officers.

"But I need to lock up…."

"I'll take care of it, Jordan. You just go with Woody…I'll get your car back to the morgue for safekeeping," a voice said behind them. It was Framus. She had followed Woody over to the bar.

Woody nodded his thanks and handed her Jordan's keys. "I owe you," he whispered.

"Just go take care of her…she doesn't look so good," Roz said, looking at Jordan with worried eyes. In fact, Jordan looked close to collapsing.

* * *

The x-ray showed that everything was normal…there no long-term injuries, no fractures, or anything else that should worry Jordan except a bad headache. A really bad headache that had her ears ringing and her eyes wincing at the bright lights. The doctor gave her a pain killer and told her to take it easy for the next few days. And if she started feeling nauseous, to call him right away.

Woody took her home and helped her inside, nearly carrying her up the stairs. "Do you need some help getting ready for bed?" he asked. It was only after it came out of his mouth did he realize how it sounded. "I mean…"

"I know…it's okay, Woody. I think I can manage getting on my pajamas just fine. But thanks. And thanks for everything you did tonight…taking me to the hospital. Staying with me…"

"It was nothing, Jordan. I wanted to do it."

"Still, it meant a lot to me," she said in a small voice, looking down at the floor of her bedroom from where she was sitting on her bed.

It was then Woody realized just a little bit how alone Jordan must feel. No mother. Her half-brother was presumed dead. And her father had seemingly vanished with no word from him for nearly a year now. Was it the little things that mattered the most to her – like someone sitting with her in the hospital? Was it those types of things that really touched her heart? Underneath all the brassy attitude and sophistication, was she really a lot more simple than he ever contemplated? He walked back over to her and sat down beside her on the bed. "I was happy to do it for you, Jordan. I wanted to." He begin to pull her into his arms, expecting to feel her resist. She didn't. She nearly melted into his hug.

"I was so frightened, Woody. I've seen guns all my life…my dad has had them. But it wasn't until tonight that I stared down the barrel of one, wondering if my life was over."

He held her and stroked her back, whispering soft words of what he hoped was comfort in her ear. He wasn't too surprised when he felt something warm and wet on his shirt a few minutes later. "It's okay, Jordan. Cry it out if you need to. It might help." She began to sob silently.

"I'm not normally like this…" she said, her voice still full of tears.

"Well, normally you're not robbed at gun point," he replied, keeping his tone light.

She laughed softly. "Yeah. You're right…."

"You were scared. That's normal….and human, Jo. Anyone would have been."

She continued to stay right there, with his arms around her, holding her close for long moments. She felt safe and had no desire to have him move away. In fact, if he would just stay right there…but she felt his weight begin to shift and he released her, getting up off her bed. He walked over to her dresser and pulled out her sleep pants and a tank top. "Here. Get ready for bed. Your painkiller is on the dresser. Take one before you go to sleep…and don't plan on doing a thing tomorrow. I'll clean, you can tell me how to do your laundry, and then make me a list for the grocery store. You are to park it on the couch and take care of yourself." He handed her the pajamas. "Is there anything else you need before we call it a night?"

There was. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

"Would you stay with me tonight? In here? I really don't think I can handle being alone tonight. N-n-not with that guy still being out there….Framus told me they haven't caught him yet."


	5. The Pogue

**Chapter Five**

If Woody had been a betting man, he'd wager Jordan Cavanaugh had never been clingy. Not once. Ever. Not even the first day of kindergarten, when her mother took her to class and dropped her off. While the other kids were crying after their parents, he'd bet any amount of money she was scoping out the room, trying to figure out where the best toys were.

Only now she was clinging to him as if her life depended on it.

The robber had truly scared her. He agreed to stay with her for the rest of the night, settling in behind her and gently spooning her body next to his carefully, so as not to hurt her head. The moment his arms went around her, he felt her whole body tremble slightly, and then relax against him. And she had slept…at least for a little while…until bad dreams kept waking her up throughout the night…to the point where he had rolled her over and urged her head on his chest, holding her snugly against him, rubbing her back. "I'm sorry," she had whispered. "I guess…."

"It's playing over in your mind…but he can't hurt you. I'm here, and I've got you…" He felt her nod and could have sworn he heard her whisper under her breath that she was glad he was there.

She had slept then….finally dozing off and not waking until much later when the pain killers wore off and her head began hurting again. He had eased out of bed and gotten her some more, along with a glass of water. Handing them to her, he flipped on her bedside light. "Wow. That's a beaut," he said, gently tracing one of the bruises on the side of her face that extended along the cheek bone and upwards around her eye.

"Oh, gee, thanks. I don't think I want to look in the mirror tomorrow."

"I wouldn't. It looks like you've gone one too many rounds with a heavy weight."

"That bad?"

"Let's just say I'd plan on using lots of ice on my face tomorrow." He took the glass from her and flipped off the light, settling her back against him to sleep.

She looked awful…bruised…in pain. Scared half to death. Woody's arms tightened around her protectively as he thought about just what she had been through. She couldn't keep this up. Not the pace of working such long hours….always being gone….never having time for herself. Not placing herself in danger just to keep a smoky, old bar open for a man that no longer called Boston home, a man who perhaps never would return to the city or his daughter.

Jordan had to see there was more to life than this…

And platonic relationship or not, he had to make her realize it.

* * *

The deal with platonic friendships is that they rarely pan out to either thing they're supposed to be….platonic or friendships. Either they quit being platonic somewhere along the way and change to a romance….or the friendship goes up in smoke because one of the partners realizes that, well….he or she wants more than just _friendship_. Either way you're screwed, and either way, someone loses and ends up hurt. At least that was the way Woody saw it, as time passed and Jordan slowly recovered from her injuries.

Remembering the paramedic's words, he had watched Jordan closely the next few days, making sure she was okay…making sure she was overcoming her fears. Helping her close up the bar at nights. "You don't have to do this, Woody," she had protested. "I mean, chances are that guy won't ever come back…it won't happen again." But the fear that was still in her eyes told him she thought otherwise.

"I don't mind. Honestly," he told her out loud, adding under his breath, "I'll rest easier if I do this."

"You'll what?" She had overheard.

It was time. He may as well have it out with her.

"Rest easier. I worry about you Jordan Cavanaugh."

Her heart thudded. _He worries about me_. _But he said after the last kiss, his curiosity was satisfied…_ "There's no need to, Woody."

"What makes you say that?"

"Patrols around the bar has been stepped up…he won't come back."

Woody stopped stacking the chairs on the tables and came over to where she was counting the night's receipts. Placing his hand over the money to get her attention, he said, "I don't care. I worry about you. Here. At night. Closing by yourself. You can't tell me not to worry about someone who ….I care about. Someone who is a close friend."

_Friend. He said it again. But it's my own fault for starting this platonic roommate thing,_ Jordan thought.

"Can't you get someone to stay here with you to close up….or better yet close up for you?" he continued.

Jordan sighed. She wished she could…that she didn't have to work quite so hard or so long. Shaking her head, she replied, "No. No, I can't. Not right now."

"Why?"

"I just can't, Woody. It's a long story…"

He noticed the catch in her voice….and the worried look on her face. Taking her hands in his, he said, "Tell me."

Two hours later, he had the whole story. Jordan had pulled him back into the office and showed him the Pogue's books. "It's leaking like a sieve," she said. "I've done everything I know to do…We're just not making money. There's too much competition. And I'll be honest, a lot of dad's customers came in here to see _him_. When he left, nearly half my customers left, too."

Woody was no accountant, but he had dealt enough with money issues during his life to know when something was in the red. The Pogue was bleeding profusely. "So this is why you moved out of your apartment?" he asked quietly. He had often wondered what sparked her to give up her Pearl Street home….the place that had been uniquely hers.

She nodded. "I've used that money for advertising, improving the menu…that hasn't worked. I've laid off everyone I can and haven't hired replacements for anyone that quits. I can't work here 24/7…but I don't know what else to do."

"You're working too much as it is. The doctor said one of the reasons it took you so long to get over your head injuries was that you were exhausted. Exhausted, Jordan. A doctor said that. When that happens, it's time to let go of a few things."

"But I can't…"

"Yes, you can. Sell this place."

"Woody, I can't. Dad would be so upset with me….and I've disappointed him enough in a lifetime….I won't do that again." She looked down at her hands….and to her surprise, she was nearly wringing them with anxiety. Then she felt his two larger, stronger hands fit around hers and gently squeeze them…causing her to look up in his face.

"You've never disappointed Max. Irritated him, yes. Disappointed him, no. He 's very proud of you."

"I can't sell his bar..."

"Whose name did he leave on the deed?"

"Mine, but I know when he gets back, he expects it to be up and running…."

"And his daughter well and healthy. Of which she is neither right now. And if it's draining you dry financially, he won't hold it against you if you sell it. He'd do the same thing." He sat down on the edge of the desk and pulled her to him. "You know he would."

"I'll have to think about it…"

"I know. It's a big step. But you can't keep doing this to yourself, Jordan. Not just placing yourself in jeopardy by closing up so late at night by yourself, but also working all the time. You're wearing yourself out. How much longer do you think you can keep this up? No one knows when Max will be back…not even you. I don't think he knows himself."

"I…..I…know."

"Then give it some serious thought, okay?" He pulled her to him and gently hugged her…as much as Nigel or any other friend would do.

Or so she told herself, as she relished the feel of his arms around her again. He had stayed with her the night she had asked him to…but there had been little physical contact with each other since then. She stifled a sigh as she felt him pull away.

"I'll pull the car around to the front. Are you ready to go?" he asked, gently tucking a curl behind her ear.

"Yeah," she replied, still sniffling a little and reaching for tissue on her desk. She was a mess. Emotionally and every other way. He didn't need this in his life….not her…not like this.

However, her heart didn't get the memo. It jumped every time she saw him…he may not need her…his ability to adhere to her platonic roommate rules proved that.

Yet she needed Woody more than he could ever imagine.


	6. Moving Out

**Chapter Six**

She did it. She sold the Pogue. It was probably one of the most difficult things she had ever done in her life, but she did it. It was purchased by another bar owner in the city. She had taken the check and deposited it in an interest-bearing account she set up for her father. It would remain there until he decided to return.

Jordan drove home after work that day, not knowing what to do with herself…in the past she had left work and went straight to the bar. Now she had hours….hours….that she didn't know what to do with. She could go back to work…Garret would love that. She could go shopping. She could clean the house…let Woody have a break. He had been picking up her slack there since he moved in.

Ah. Woody. There he was again. The man always managed to sneak into even her most mundane thoughts…her platonic roommate. His curiosity had been satisfied….and he seemed to be happy with the way things were. Good for him. She only wished she were as content. She wished the word "platonic" had never come out of her mouth. She unlocked the door and let herself in, heading toward the kitchen to get a beer out of the refrigerator, but pulling up short when she came to the table. There were apartment magazines all over the surface. He was looking for another place to stay.

She swallowed hard, and then flinched as she heard his key in the lock. "Hey, Jordan," he said, seeing her in the kitchen. "Are you not working tonight?"

"No…I'm not. I took your advice."

He chuckled. "Since when did you ever listen to me?"

"I've always listened to you."

Woody looked at her for a beat. "I mean, when did you actually start doing what I _said_?"

"I sold the Pogue."

"You what?"

"I sold the Pogue. This afternoon. To another bar owner. I just got back from the bank. I put the money in an account for my dad, so when he comes back home, he'll have something to start all over with again."

He walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulders. "You're serious?"

She nodded. Then motioned to the magazines on the table. "Are you moving?"

"I'm still looking…"

"Have you found anything, yet?"

"Nothing definite, but there's a few I really like that would work out. I'm going to look at them tomorrow. I can't stay here forever, Jordan. We both knew that when I moved in…that this was only temporary. I'm sure you're ready for your life and your house back."

She swallowed hard. "I don't mind, Woody…I really don't. It's…it's nice having you here. Really."

"I appreciate that, Jordan. I do. I just …" He ran his fingers through his hair, wondering if it wasn't the right time to be totally honest with this woman….and what would she do if he told her how he really felt…would she run? Would she laugh?

Would she reject him?

"Just what, Woody? Feel like you're not wanted….if so, that's not true. I've loved having you stay…"

"It's not that," he cut her off abruptly. "It's not that at all. Jordan, I can't stay here any longer because if I do…I'm afraid that I won't be able to keep this relationship platonic much longer. I've had a difficult time not keeping my hands off of you since I held you that night after the robbery. If I stay here…you've got to know that I _can't _promise to keep our relationship the way it is right now. In fact, if platonic is the way you want it, I'd better leave tonight…" There he had said it…it was in a rush, but at least now it was out in the open. He glanced over at her, apprehension showing in the depth of his blue eyes.

She wasn't running. She wasn't laughing. She was just standing there, looking at him with those warm brown eyes of hers. _Oh damn. Here comes the rejection,_ he thought. "I understand…I'll leave now," he said, inching for the door.

"Woody, wait…please." She walked over to where he was at and looked up at him. "I thought you said your curiosity was satisfied when we kissed in here that afternoon you were helping me put the groceries up."

"About kissing you, yeah." She arched an eyebrow. Clearly he needed to explain himself. "I like kissing you. I want to do it again. That's what I meant when I said my curiosity was satisfied.

"Oh. I thought you meant you didn't want to do it again."

He shook his head. "Not a chance. But if I stay here…I can't promise I won't…"

She smiled and then raised herself up on tiptoe to brush a chaste kiss across his lips. "Then don't make me any promises."

"Jordan?" She kissed him again. "Jordan…if you're not serious, you need to stop," he said, watching her loosen his tie and slide the knot down a bit…then busied her fingers with the top two buttons of his shirt.

"Oh. I'm very serious detective."

He sucked in a deep breath. "This may change everything about this roommate situation."

"Oh, I'm counting on it."

"Are you sure?"

"Oh yes. Very." She tugged at his tie until his lips met hers. And that was the last time she had control of the situation. His arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her to him and kissing her until she couldn't think about anything but Woody…and the feeling of his lips against hers. When he finally let her go, she was flustered _and_ breathless, leaning against him for support.

"Still sure?" he asked, roughly. And felt her nod against his chest. "Good. Because I intend for this to happen….a lot."

"You do?"

"Most definitely. But right now, we need to talk." He took her by the hand and led her to the living room, sitting down with her on the couch. "I've got to move out, Jordan."

She was confused, and it showed in her eyes. "Why? I thought…"

Woody softly stroked the hair off her shoulder. "Because…I want this to be right….I don't want our relationship to be casual or convenient. And that's what it might become if I stay here. I want it to be real and right…and forever. The temptation would be too much for me. It's been hard enough trying to keep things 'platonic' between us while I've been staying here. Especially after the night you asked me to sleep with you after the robbery. Holding you ranks right up there with breathing for me."

Jordan had the good grace to blush. "But Woody…."

"No buts. I want to do this right…I need to move out."

She sighed and looked down at their hands…still holding on to one another. "I understand…and on one level, I'm flattered…no one has ever been that considerate of me. On the other hand, I've gotten so used to you being here, I'm not sure I'll like it when you're gone."

"I'll be as close as the phone, sweetheart."


	7. The Phone Call

**Chapter Seven**

"Trouble in paradise?" asked Lily, cornering Jordan in her office.

Ignoring her, Jordan continued working on her reports.

"Jordan?" Lily asked again.

"Hmmm?"

"I asked if there was trouble in paradise."

"I have no clue. Never been there."

"That's not what I mean. Rumor has it that you and Woody had a huge fight and split up. And that he's moved out."

"No, no, and yes."

Now it was Lily's turn to be confused. "What?"

Jordan leaned back in her chair and stared her friend down. "No, we haven't had a fight. Not a small one, a medium-sized one, or a big one. No, we haven't split up because we were never technically a 'couple'. And yes, he's moved out."

"Why'd he move out if you two haven't fought…"

"Look, Lils, it was a temporary situation. He was only staying with me until he could find a place of his own. He has now, so he's moved out."

"So you're not mad at each other?"

"No…what's there to be mad over?" Jordan said with a note of finality in her voice, ending the conversation and dismissing Lily. It was true. They weren't mad at each other and he had finally moved out…although not without protest from Jordan.

"I'll miss you," she told him. That was nearly his undoing, almost ripping the resolve from his will.

"I'll still be at work…and with you after work…just in my own apartment. It'll give us two places to go at night…" He had been infinitely glad they hadn't been sleeping together since the robbery. If they had of, he knew he wouldn't have been able to leave…and he needed to, at least until they could solidify their relationship.

So, she had helped him move, packing up his few things at her house and getting his other household goods out of storage. He had rented a one bedroom apartment a few minutes from his work. One that had no plans of going co-op. She helped him arrange things and then kissed him good night and went home to her house.

Her now too empty and quiet home. She had tried to watch TV, but found herself too overwhelmed by the stillness of the house to pay attention. She could go to bed, but climbing the stairs and going to her room suddenly didn't hold the same comfort as it did when she knew Woody was across the hall. Instead, she had lain down on the couch and fell into a fitful sleep.

Unaware that a few blocks away, Woody was having the same problem. His old mattress and box springs were suddenly no longer comfortable…and not being able to hear Jordan during the night was disturbing. Instead of sinking into his normal deep slumber, he found himself fighting insomnia. Maybe if he called her….then checking his watch, he discovered it was already after two in the morning. She was bound to be asleep.

Only she wasn't. She had picked up her cell phone and almost hit speed dial for him, when she noticed her clock – 2:15 a.m. He was bound to be asleep. She flipped the receiver closed. She would talk to him tomorrow. Instead she fell into a restless sleep and woke earlier than normal without feeling rested at all. _If this is what life is like without him here…I don't like it. And how did I survive before?_ She asked herself the next morning as she got ready for work, applying an extra layer of concealer on the dark circles under her eyes. She idly wondered how he had rested the night before.

She didn't get her answer until later that afternoon when Woody dropped by her office to see her. A soft knock at her door brought her attention to him. "Hi," he said, walking into her office, sitting down on the edge of her desk. "I was wondering if you'd let your ex-roommate take you to dinner?"

Jordan noticed with a small sense of satisfaction that he had circles underneath his eyes, too. Evidently he had gotten about the same amount of sleep she had.

"Sure. Let me get this last file finished up for Garret and I'm all yours," she said, putting her signature on the last form and placing it in the folder.

"All mine…gee, Dr. Cavanaugh…that sounds…_different_. You've never said that to me before."

Jordan grinned. "That's because I never realized that I …." She nearly said the L-word there…_I never realized I love you before_…but a part of her was still hesitant. "That I would miss you so much," she finished, hurriedly, hoping Woody wouldn't catch her fax paus.

He chuckled as he helped her with her jacket. "What's so funny?" she asked.

"That's not what you wanted to say," he said, turning her around to face him. "But that's okay. I know what you meant….and I miss you, too. I had a hard time falling asleep last night." He pulled her to him and she went unresisting.

"I did, too," she said somewhat shyly.

"So…instead of going out, what do you think about ordering Chinese in at my place? We can watch a movie…or maybe not watch a movie and play some Scrabble or cards…"

"Sounds nice. I'll swing by the house to change and then meet you at your apartment say, in about an hour and a half?"

"I'll have the chicken lo mein waiting." He tightened his hold on her and lightly brushed her lips with his, only to feel hers cling just a moment longer than he anticipated before she broke the kiss.

"I won't be long," she called over her shoulder as she strode out the door. A quick trip home for a shower and a change of clothes and she'd be at his door.

* * *

Dinner was over. And despite both of their intentions to watch a movie, instead they found themselves on the couch, Jordan lying on top of Woody, and being held snugly, while both of them slept. They had eaten, and talked about work, how the move went, what he had left to unpack…that they missed each other…how hard it was now to get used to _not_ seeing each other…when Woody had noticed her eyes nearly closing. He had pulled her to him and they fell asleep.

And stayed that way until his phone rang. He quickly grabbed it before it could wake her up.

Phone calls are odd things in themselves when you think about it. Tiny bits of communication rattled and thrown through microwave towers from one receiver to another until they find their way to your particular phone. Sometimes the communication is good…sometimes it's mundane…sometimes it's awful.

And sometimes it's life changing.

With one phone call Woody felt his world tilt and turn upside down. Jordan woke when she heard the sound of disbelief jerk from his throat, and then leaned up as she saw his face turn pale. "What is it?" she asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice…because she saw panic echoing in his eyes.

Not bothering to flip his phone shut, he sat upright so fast he nearly tumbled her to the floor. "It's Cal," he said, pushing himself up from the couch. "I have to go."


	8. Cal

**Chapter Eight**

"Go? Go where?" Jordan asked, following him to his bedroom.

"New York," he said, pulling a suitcase from his closet and throwing some clothes in it.

"Why? What's wrong?" she asked, gently taking the items he was haphazardly packing and neatly refolding them. She was buying time. She knew that Woody and his brother weren't on the best of terms. As a matter of fact, she was aware that they hadn't spoken in a while … she wondered what Cal had gotten himself into now that would be so awful that Woody would stop everything and go to his brother.

"He's sick…they don't know what's wrong….he's in the hospital. That was the doctor…they don't know…" his words came out in a terrified rush. Jordan grabbed his hands.

"Calm down…calm down, at least a little….you're not going to do him or yourself any good like this….Let me help you…."

"Jordan, I don't know what to do…he's the only family I have left…What will I do if he…"

"He's not," Jordan cut in sharply. "You can't think that way right now, for you or for him. If he's in New York, he has access to some of the best medical help available. Just remember that." She finished packing his clothes, leaving him to get up the few toiletries and other things he needed, as she went back into his living room and got on her phone, first calling the airlines, and then Woody's chief, then finally, Garret. She asked for two weeks vacation, as she explained the situation. Garret said take the time and whatever else needed. And keep him posted.

"Okay, Woody. I've got plane tickets waiting at Logan for the midnight flight into New York City. Do you want to follow me back to my apartment and leave your car there, or do you want me to come back and pick you up?"

Woody shook his head in confusion. He wasn't following her train of thought. "What?" he asked, still trying to process what all had happened in such a short amount of time.

"Do you want to drive to the airport or do you want me to?"

"I can drive myself to Logan, you don't have to, Jordan."

"That's not what I meant. I'm going, too. So…do you want me to drive or do you want to?"

"You're going?"

"I'm not going to let you go through this by yourself. I've already called your chief and told him what happened. Then I called Garret and got a couple of weeks off. You don't need to be alone."

The relief that framed his face told Jordan that she had made the right decision. "Thanks," he said, his eyes saying more than any words could convey.

"No problem."

* * *

The hiss and pull of the ventilator was the only thing that broke the silence of the small hospital room. Jordan watched Cal's chest rise and fall, echoing the readouts coming from a multitude of monitors. She sat waiting for his eyes to flicker open, or his hand to squeeze hers….anything that would allow Woody and her to know that Cal was still with them.

Woody was still trying to get a straight answer from the doctors…he was out in the hall with them now. Jordan sighed and struggled to find a comfortable position in her chair. She was exhausted and so was Woody. They had gotten no rest on the short flight from Boston to New York, and then had gone immediately to the hospital. And God knows no one rests in hospital. She found herself dozing off, only to be woken by Woody's hand gently shaking her. "Can I talk with you a minute? In the hall?" he asked. She followed him out of the room and down the hall a ways. "It's leukemia," he said, "The same thing that killed Mom…now Cal's got it."

Jordan struggled for an answer. Leukemia could be deadly, as was in the case with Woody's mom. But there were procedures that could be done…to halt the cancer or at least slow it down. However, the look on Woody's face told her that he hadn't processed anything other than the fact that his brother had cancer and could die. She needed to get him to talk. "What did the doctor say, Woody?"

"Cal's known he's been sick for a while. He's tried to hold out, try other things, but the doctor said that he needs more aggressive treatment."

"Bone marrow transplant?"

Woody nodded. "Yeah."

"Maybe they can find someone registered on the transplant list that will match…"

"They're trying that, but you and I both know that the best chance is with family members, first. They're testing me tomorrow. If I match, they'll harvest it in three days…after they've given Cal enough radiation to kill off the bad cells in his body," Woody's voice gave an uncharacteristic crack. "Why didn't he call me? Tell me? I would have been glad to be tested before now to see if I matched…"

Jordan gently looped her arms around his waist. "Maybe he didn't want to bother you….maybe he thought that since none of you all matched up for your mom, it would be the same for him…maybe…"

"Maybe he thought I wouldn't do it," Woody broke in. "Maybe he thought I was still so upset with him that I would refuse to be tested."

"I don't think he would have thought that," Jordan began.

"You don't know me and my brother…all the stuff that's happened between us…"

Jordan looked him in the eyes. "No, I don't. But the main thing is that you're here right now and that you're going to do it…be tested and if you match, then you're going to have your marrow harvested. So don't worry about the past. Deal with the now. You're here and you're trying to help. You two can settle your differences after Cal's better."

Woody sighed. "You're right. I know."

She snorted. "Of course I'm right. And I'm also right about something else. You need to go to the motel and rest. If you match and they need to harvest, then you've got to be in your best shape. Go and get some sleep. I'll stay here with Cal. I'll call you if anything changes. Okay?"

Woody shook his head. "I won't be able to rest with you here and not knowing how he's doing."

"Do you want the transplant to be successful? Then go take care of yourself…now." She turned and pushed him toward the exit.

"You'll call me if anything changes?"

"Absolutely."


	9. Roommates Again

**Chapter Nine**

The next few days were a blur for Jordan and Woody. Cal got massive doses of radiation to kill off all the cancer cells. The results were that he was sick, weak, and his thick head of hair was gone. He looked painfully thin and small in the hospital bed. And due to the fact that the radiation killed off both the bad and _good_ cells in his body, his immune system was nil. No one could go into the room and see him but the doctors and nurses, and they had to be completely sterile and wear masks.

Woody's marrow had matched, and now Jordan found herself running between two hospital rooms…making sure Cal was okay and then checking on Woody…who actually had little discomfort after his bone marrow had been harvested. She had a harder time keeping Woody's spirits and hopes up about his brother. Their mother's death from the disease overshadowed everything, despite the fact that medical treatment in this field had moved light years ahead of what it was when their mom had it. When the day finally came for Cal to receive the marrow, they stood outside his door, arms around each other, looking through the window at Cal. It would be a while before he fully regained consciousness. It would be even longer before they knew if the transplant "took." It simply would all be a matter of time.

A week later, things looked better. Woody had long since recovered and Cal was improving. But Woody noticed Jordan looked beat. She had stayed with him at the hospital nearly around the clock, not leaving to go back to the hotel but maybe once or twice. She hadn't slept much and wasn't eating right. And as much as Woody was concerned for Cal, he was equally worried about Jordan. "You need to go back to the hotel and get some rest," he finally told her. "You're wearing yourself out."

"But you need me here…"

Woody smiled down at her. She had been by his side nearly every waking and sleeping minute – what little sleep she got in the hospital. If this didn't solidify their relationship, he didn't know what would qualify to do it. "I need you to get some sleep, so you don't collapse on me. Go back to our room. Take a hot shower. Order in room service. And hit the sheets."

"What about you? You need to rest, too."

"If Cal's still doing better, I'll be there in a little while.

So reluctantly Jordan left, taking a cab back to the hotel and doing what Woody told her. Finally donning a satin night shirt, she climbed into the bed and found herself dozing off against her better judgment, and eventually sinking into a deep sleep. That was how Woody found her hours later, before he got in the bed next to her, spooning her against him like he did the night after the bar got robbed. Then he was holding Jordan to comfort her. Now he was doing it to comfort _himself_. He was slightly amazed how much her mere presence had brought him some kind of peace and tranquility while he dealt with all the decisions to be made about Cal. She never said a whole lot…just listened when he needed to talk, held his hand when he just needed her there, and encouraged both of the brothers. She had been his support during a time when he had no one else to turn to.

He didn't know if he would ever be able to thank her. Or if he'd ever be able to find the right words to tell her. He tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

The sight movement woke Jordan. She reveled in the feel of his arms around her again. Gently she placed her hands on his arms.

"You're awake?" he questioned, whispering into the darkness of the room.

"Yeah. How's Cal?"

"Doing better. He regained consciousness a little while ago. He sent me home. Told me to rest and come back tomorrow."

"How are you doing, Woody?"

"I'm better, too." He felt her reflectively squeeze his arm. He gently rolled her to her back so he could brush the hair back from her face and look into her eyes. "Thanks for coming with me, Jo."

"You're welcome. I'm glad to do it." She touched his cheek. "You've always been there for me, Woody. Through everything. I've never told you how much it meant to me….how I appreciated that and you. I want to be here for you."

He turned his head and kissed her hand. "I've always want to be there for you when you need me, Jordan. Always."

She was about to answer him when she caught the look in his eyes. They were blue… a smoky blue she hadn't seen before….a look tinged with affection and, well, _passion_. She felt her heart thud in her throat…as he slowly lowered his lips and kissed her.

Woody was a good kisser. That much she knew. But Jordan soon found that she could loose herself and her way in these kisses. She only felt herself respond as he pushed her back into the pillows and unbuttoned her sleep shirt, and then moaned softly against this mouth as he settled on top of her…kissing her neck, her shoulders, the sweet hollow between her breasts. She pushed against him then, putting some space between them, so she could look at him…and do some exploring of her own…letting her own lips and hands wander over his broad shoulders…down his chest…to that curious line of curly hair that began just below his navel. And feeling him respond with the same moan that had come from her. "Ah…Jordan…." And then his lips were back on hers kissing her with a fierce intensity that made her forget everything but him…as he moved inside her, soon finding they both could disregarded the whole world as their bodies met with shattering emotions….and they both could do nothing but simply hold on to each other until they floated back down into reality and slept until the next morning.


	10. Wanted: One NonPlatonic Roommate

**Chapter Ten**

**One year later…..**

It had worked. The bone marrow transplant had been successful … so far. Cal knew that he would have to go in for regular check ups and that until he had been cancer-free for seven years, he couldn't be considered cured. But each day that he wasn't ill was a victory and brought the ultimate goal closer, even if it was in small increments.

Woody had ended up staying in New York with him for three months, to make sure he could function on his own. That he was taken care of. That he was able to return to work. Jordan had left to go back to Boston shortly after her two-week vacation was over.

He had missed her like hell. He loved taking care of his brother…the time together did allow them to bond in a new way…instead of being so highly competitive, they learned to support each other. Past mistakes were forgiven…as so often happens when your own mortality slaps you in the face.

But God, he did miss her. Everything about her. Her scent. The feel of her in his arms. Her smile. Her hand in his. They talked several times a day, but that was a poor substitute. It didn't keep him company at night and his cell phone couldn't kiss him good-bye.

So as soon as the doctors said that Cal was able to stay by himself, Woody hopped a plane back to Boston. He landed at Logan and took a cab back to the morgue…back to her. He never wanted to leave her alone in the city again. Six months later, they both flew back to New York to check on Cal. That summer Cal had come out to Boston, his health still holding steady, but none of them ready to breathe a sigh of relief yet. He had stayed with Woody.

"Figured you'd be living with that Jordan-chick," Cal had teased Woody.

"Nah. Not yet. We're giving it some time."

"Always the boy scout. If I were you, I'd already be looking for a way to move in with her."

"I did that…and moved back out."

Cal was truly puzzled. "Then, wait…you two are still together…"

Woody nodded. "This time I want it to be real, Cal. Lasting. Not convenient. Not casual…"

"You scare me, bro. You're talking like a man in love."

Woody felt his cheeks redden slightly and he looked away from Cal.

"Oh, my God. You are. You're in love with Jordan Cavanaugh."

"Yeah," Woody quietly replied. "Yeah, I am."

"She love you?"

Woody nodded. She did. She had told him shortly after he returned from New York. It had slipped out, but she had said it. Committed to the L-word. They had gone dancing one night after he had gotten back. While gently swaying to a slow song, she had pulled him closer. "Hey, let me breathe," he had joked.

"I missed you…that's all."

"I missed you, too, but I'm not squeezing the life out of you," he continued to joke, until he saw the look in her eyes. She did miss him. A lot. "Jordan? It's okay."

"Never leave me that long again…."

"I won't. I promise. I thought you'd miss me, but not this much, sweetheart."

"I love you, Woody. That's why I missed you so much."

And here he thought he'd be first one to admit his emotions….first telling Jordan that he loved her and then waiting for a mumbled "I love you, too," from her. How wrong could he have been? She had said it first. She had said it loud and clear. He had been the one that had to do follow up.

But he had…effectively, if he did say so himself. Coming over the next night to her house with red roses and a good bottle of wine…surprising her. Learning aspects about her that he needed to know…like the spot just below her right ear that when he kissed it, it made her catch her breathe and then go nearly limp in his arms….or like she really was just a little ticklish on her sides, right below where her underwear rested. And if she was really tense, a back rub not only relaxed her, it set the mood.

Important stuff he knew he needed to catalogue away in his mind, if he was to be the kind of man she desired…the kind she wanted for a husband.

However, now it was a year later…a year after he initially moved in with her. It seemed so long ago…and yet right now, he was in the same predicament he had been in twelve months earlier. His building wasn't going co-op, but his lease was up. He had no desire to renew it. Woody knew his own mind, and thought he knew hers. They had supported each other through some difficult times…and discovered that they loved each other. Those two things, coupled with the fact that over the last couple of months either she had ended up at his apartment or he at her house, sealed his decision. Throwing some clothes in a suitcase and grabbing his houseplant, he drove over to her house and rang the doorbell. It took a minute, but she soon opened the door.

"Woody?"

"Hi…I was wondering if you would like a roommate again. A non-platonic one this time?"


End file.
